Page 176 of Just for the Cameras
GRAYDON
I bring my coffee tothe back corner of Roads where I like to sit and take the seat that’s up against the wall so I can watch people walk in.
I grabbed an egg burrito with chorizo and beans as well, my stomach growling from the workout and the lack of food I consumed because I was busy last night…consuming Maple.
The door opens and Bennett walks in, spotting me immediately. He nods his head in my direction and then goes to the counter, just as OC walks in as well, looking disheveled. He’s wearing a pair of royal blue sweatpants, one of the pants legs pulled up, the other cinched around his ankle. His shirt is stained with what looks like pizza sauce, and his hair is sticking out in every direction.
Jesus…
One hundred dollars says he didn’t even shower yet.
I watch him tap Bennett on the shoulder, and when Bennett turns around, OC claps him in a hug, burying his head against Bennett’s shoulder and clinging to him like he’s a lifeline.
Okay, all I can say is he’s lucky he’s doing that to Bennett and not me because there’s no way in fuck I would be as giving as Bennett is being right now.
Why do I have a feeling this meetup is going to quickly turn in a different direction?
They grab their orders, Bennett coming over with a coffee and OCholding a bottle of cranberry juice and…Jesus, five blueberry crumble muffins.
“Hey,” OC says as he takes a seat and sets his plate down.
I eye the muffins the size of my fist and then look up at him. “Uh…hey.”
Without even removing the muffin wrapper, OC picks one up from the plate and takes a bite from the very center like a goddamn psychopath. Then, to my horror, he tilts his head back, bringing the muffin with him, and starts lapping up the center with his tongue.
What the actual fuck?
I glance at Bennett, who looks just as concerned.
“Uh, are you sharing those muffins?” Bennett asks.
OC snaps his head forward and his brows turn down. “No. If you want a muffin, get your own.”
“Five muffins?” I ask in a judgmental tone. “Not a good way to prepare for the season.”
“Oh, fuck off, as if you’ve never eaten your feelings before.” He takes another bite, burying his mouth in the center of the muffin, leaving the sides untouched just like the wrapper.
Never in my life have I seen someone eat a muffin like that.
Bennett and I exchange glances before Bennett carefully says, “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” OC sets a ring of a muffin back on his plate as he picks up another and buries his mouth in the middle again.
“Fuck, I can’t watch you eat muffins like that. What the hell are you doing?” I ask.
“Practicing,” he says. “I haven’t eaten a muffin in a long goddamn time and I don’t want to forget how to do it.”
Bennett and I both pause—his drink halfway to his mouth and my burrito in my hands.
“Wait, what?” I ask.
“Dude, are you talking about eating a woman?” Bennett asks, the thought that was clearly on both of our minds.
OC’s eyes look between us as he says, “Of course. What else would I be referring to?” Then he takes another bite, this time leading with his tongue.
Oh, fuck no.
He lowers the muffin just as I smack it out of his hand, sending it flying against the wall.
